


A Dragon's Love

by blackgoldberry



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, game of thrones
Genre: Drama, F/M, Family Drama, Jealousy, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26124760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgoldberry/pseuds/blackgoldberry
Summary: During Aegon's Conquest of Westeros, Visenya comes face to face with someone from her past who seeks to affect her family's future.
Relationships: Aegon I Targaryen/Visenya Targaryen
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	A Dragon's Love

**Author's Note:**

> So, I kinda wrote this as a one-shot, but in the future, this may turn into a full-fledged story.

_Rumors and whispers, and well, reality suggests that Rhaenys is Aegon's favorite wife. And Visenya resents it. She loves her sister (even if she thinks that at times that Rhaenys is a shallow fool), but she had never been fond of sharing, and as the elder sister, Aegon should have been hers by right._

Visenya woke up to the sound of shouts and yells in the shadow of the night. She sprung from the bed, unsheathing her sword, Dark Sister, and stormed out into the Targaryen camp.

In no time, she made her way into her brother's tent, where a young man lay sprawled on the ground before him, a sheath of arrows at his side. Men stood guard at the entrance, but the only people in the room with the stranger where Orys and her Aegon and Rhaenys.

"What happened?" Her voice was harsh as she walked around the stranger and stood next to her brother.

The stranger was pale of pace and black of hair with eyes that were the color of hard stone. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn't place it, so she dismissed it.

"Torrhen sent an assassin under the cover of darkness." Aegon's words were cold, but his eyes were like a burning violet fire, reflecting his wrath. Her brother could be generous to those who bent the knee, but people that defied him were served with fire and blood.

Torrhen Stark. The King in the North. There had been reports that he had gathered an army of 35,000 in the North to stand against them. It was a foolish choice on his part, and it seemed the Stark King had learned nothing from Harrenhal or the now infamous Field of Fire. Was this his last pathetic stand against them? A lone assassin?

Rhaenys gave the Northern assassin a pitiful glance. "What is your name?"

The young man spat upon the ground. "Brandon Snow," he hissed his eyes like a raging storm.

"A bastard from the North," Aegon said flatly before he held his blade at Brandon's neck. "What were your orders?"

"I had none. It was my plan alone." Brandon glared at him defiantly. "I came to kill those unholy firebreathing monsters you keep. You wouldn't be so brave without them."

Rhaenys inhaled sharply, Aegon's eyes narrowed dangerously, Orys' brows rose in surprise, and Visenya shook her head. Kill their dragons? It was preposterous.

The eldest Targaryen couldn't hold her tongue. "You're an even bigger fool then." She waved mockingly at his arrows. "Those simple arrows couldn't hurt a fly, let alone full-grown dragons." And well-armored ones at that.

Brandon Snow snapped his head towards her, a hateful glare upon his face when he suddenly inhaled sharply. His grey eyes widened. "Vivi?" He stuttered out.

Visenya's eyes widened, and her heart skipped a beat. Could it be? She stared at his face, and her heart sunk further. It was him. How could this be? How had she not recognized him?

She truly looked at the man on the ground and cursed inwardly. He was older, but there were still hints of the man she had met eight years ago at the Citadel in Oldtown.

In all her years, Visenya had never backed down and could face anything. Tonight, she didn't dare to look at her siblings much less her brother's face. They had never called her by such an intimate name, and the suggestion that a mere bastard knew her on such terms didn't bode well.

She looked down at Brandon. "You shouldn't have come here," she said simply before she turned and strode out of the tent into the night, desperate for fresh air. Yells of "Vivi" echoed from the tent, and then they were suddenly silenced. Good. For if Brandon had continued, he was like to end up in Balerion's gut.

Visenya strode through the camp until she heard the familiar sounds of Vhagar along with Balerion and Meraxes. Before she could think to mount, a hand caught her and whirled her around, and she found herself pressed against a tree, by none other than her disapproving and furious brother.

"Let me go," she snapped, though she knew it was futile to struggle. He had her at a disadvantage, and even if she was loathe to admit it, he was stronger than her.

"Go where, Vivi?" Aegon's voice was soft, but there was a deadly undertone beneath it.

"Don't call me that!"

"Why?" Her brother's eyes narrowed dangerously. "A common bastard can call you that, but not the blood of the dragon?"

"I haven't seen Brandon in years," she retorted. "He means nothing to me." It was the truth. They had met once when she had left Dragonstone for Oldtown five years ago.

"Yet he still remembers as do you," Aegon pointed out coldly. "Must have been quite the time Visenya, for you to let such a person become so familiar." Visenya was at a loss for words. Was that jealousy she detected in her brother's voice? She would laugh if the situation weren't such a serious matter.

The silence continued for several moments. "It was love," her brother said tightly. "You loved him."

There was nothing the eldest Targaryen sibling could say to that. She pushed against Aegon's chest, trying to break free, but his grip on her remained firm.

"Now, you want me in your arms, brother?" Her voice was soft, but there was an edge of steel behind it. "We don't have time for this. You have a war to win."

Aegon glared at her before he pulled back. "You will find that any capable man can do two things at once." He strode back towards camp without a backward glance.

Visenya glared after him before she finally made her way back to camp. The main tent was empty save for an unconscious Brandon Snow and her younger sister, who was sitting lazily upon a chest, giving Visenya a curious if scolding look.

"I won't hear it, Rhaenys," Visenya said, turning her fierce gaze on the youngest Targaryen. "How could I know that Northern fool would try and kill our dragons?" She had expected their enemies to wait for any sign of weakness, but not Brandon. He wasn't even a thought in her mind these past few years.

Rhaenys snorted. "True, but that's not the issue, and you know it." Her eyes narrowed. "When were the two of you lovers?"

She rolled her eyes at the red and black cloth of the tent. "It was seven years ago before I even married Aegon. There is no cause for complaint."

"If you really believe that Visenya, then you are a fool, and I never took you for one," Rhaenys said with a shake of her head.

Visenya scowled before she turned her attention to the prisoner on the ground, the man who had been her lover.

Brandon Snow was bound tightly and from the looks of it, beaten badly. Her lips formed into a thin line, and for once, she felt something that was akin to pity. She grabbed a cloth and dumped a pitcher of water over it before she took it to Brandon and wiped his bloody face.

His eyes opened, and a stormy gaze met her own, and she arched an eyebrow at him. "Tell me the truth: Did Torrhen Stark send you?"

"Have you always been this way?" He shot back as he struggled against his bindings. "When we were together, you never mentioned any intentions to conquer and pillage the continent."

Her laugh was sharp. "The dream to conquer and unite Westeros was Aegon's. As a good wife and sister, I supported him." In a matter of seconds, she dropped the cloth, drew her sword, and pointed it at his neck. "Now, answer my question."

Brandon glared at her until finally, he looked away. "It was my own intention. Torrhen had nothing to do with it."

Visenya regarded him thoughtfully. It very well could be true, but could they afford the risk of believing him?

"I loved you, Vivi," Brandon said, pulling her from her thoughts. "You know I did."

She looked at him for several long moments before her expression softened. Visenya wasn't known for it, but sometimes, the occasion required it. "I know," she said quietly. "And I did love you." The Dragon and the Bastard Wolf. It could never work. What they had was short and delightful, but nothing more than fantasy. A temporary escape from the world they knew.

"You can't be allowed to live," she stated, keeping her sword on his neck.

"I suppose not," Brandon agreed, though there was a hint of worry in his eyes. "But my brother? You will not blame him?"

Yes, he will bear the blame. Her brother will not take the risk. Neither would she advise him to. "The only thing that I can promise is that your brother will live a longer life than you."

Brandon stared at her before he finally closed his eyes. "How am I to die?"

"That depends entirely upon you," came the cool voice of her brother as he strode into the tent, followed by Orys.

"I interrogated him," Visenya informed Aegon. "He came of his own will. Cut his head off and be done with it."

"I think that is sound advice," Rhaenys said quietly, shocking her elder sister.

"You are too familiar with him," Aegon said icily, glaring at Visenya before he turned to Brandon. "This will go badly for you."

Brandon let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not afraid of death. I prepared for it before I even came here."

"You prepared for your death, but what of your family's?" Aegon's voice was soft. "Did you prepare for theirs?"

"No." Brandon's voice wavered before he stared at Viseyna, the accusation clear in his eyes. "You promised!"

Visenya pursed her lips. "Aegon..."

Her brother held up a hand, his eyes flashing with anger. "Take him to Balerion," He ordered, and the guards stepped forward, hauling a struggling Brandon to his feet.

Once they were gone, Visenya whirled on her brother. "Balerion?" She asked tightly. "Was that necessary?" It was unbecoming of him. Aegon could be harsh with his enemies (and it was something she generally approved of), but he had what he wanted from Brandon.

"Leave us," Aegon ordered, giving a pointed look at Rhaenys and Orys. The latter two quickly left, leaving the fiery siblings alone.

The silence was long as Aegon glared at her, his eyes hard and filled with malice. "You love that bastard." It was a simple statement. And yet she could hear the underlying anger, jealously, and hatred underneath.

Visenya arched an elegant eyebrow. "Aye," she agreed. "Years ago. But then another man replaced him in my affections."

Her brother's eyes flashed dangerously. "Who?" He asked through clenched teeth.

The warrior queen could barely refrain from rolling her eyes. "It's you, you fool," she said simply. "Only a dragon could love another dragon, though sometimes I wonder about you."

Her brother took a step closer to her. "Wonder about what?" His voice was soft, but Visenya was wise enough not to mistake it for tenderness.

She met his gaze challengingly. "Don't make me say it," she hissed. "Is Rhaenys not your queen of hearts?" Her blood and rank deemed jealousy beneath her, but Visenya could not help it.

Within mere moments, Aegon had crossed the distance between them and pressed her against one of the supporting poles that held the great tent up. It was the second time that night, and it felt intimate.

Her chest rose and fell harshly, her breasts brushing against his warrior's chest. His eyes were a violent, possessing flame, and in them, she saw a reflection of her own willful and penetrating gaze. They were the blood of the dragon and a fitting match for one another. She would bring fire and blood to an entire realm to gain it's submission to Aegon. How could anyone question that she loved him? When had she ever been known to fail in her duty? And there was no mistake; it was her duty to love Aegon.

A few harsh pulls and tugs and her clothing was nothing more than a pile on the floor. She felt a shiver run down her spine, but it wasn't because of the cold air of the night on her skin. In typical fashion, she returned the favor, and her brother's clothing joined her own on the ground.

And perhaps it was her pleasure to love him as well.


End file.
